Surely you have not forgotten
that time, and I recall it with tenderness. You were very
beautiful then. But you are more beautiful now; for, in the years
that have come and gone since then, the joys and the sorrows of
maternity have impressed their saintly grace upon the dear face I
used to kiss, and have made your gentle heart gentler still.
Beloved lady, in memory of years to be recalled only in thought,
and in token of my gratitude and affection, I bring you these
little love-songs, and reverently I lay them at your feet.
Eugene Field
Chicago, November 1, 1894
THE LOVE-SONGS
By Eugene Field
THE ROCK-A-BY LADY
"BOOH"!
GARDEN AND CRADLE
THE NIGHT WIND
KISSING TIME
JEST 'FORE CHRISTMAS
BEARD AND BABY
THE DINKEY-BIRD
THE DRUM
THE DEAD BABE
THE HAPPY HOUSEHOLD
So, so, ROCK-A-BY SO!
THE SONG OF LUDDY-DUD
THE DUEL
GOOD-CHILDREN STREET
THE DELECTABLE BALLAD OF THE WALLER LOT
THE STORK
THE BOTTLE TREE
GOOGLY-GOO
THE BENCH-LEGGED FYCE
LITTLE MISS BRAG
THE HUMMING TOP
LADY BUTTON-EYES
THE RIDE TO BUMPVILLE
THE BROOK
PICNIC-TIME
SHUFFLE-SHOON AND AMBER-LOCKS
THE SHUT-EYE TRAIN
LITTLE-OH-DEAR
THE FLY-AWAY HORSE
SWING HIGH AND SWING LOW
WHEN I WAS A BOY
AT PLAY
A VALENTINE
LITTLE ALL-ALONEY
SEEIN' THINGS
THE CUNNIN' LITTLE THING
THE DOLL'S WOOING
INSCRIPTION FOR MY LITTLE SON'S SILVER PLATE
FISHERMAN JIM'S KIDS
"FIDDLE-DEE-DEE"
OVER THE HILLS AND FAR AWAY
THE ROCK-A-BY LADY
The Rock-a-By Lady from Hushaby street
Comes stealing; comes creeping;
The poppies they hang from her head to her feet,
And each hath a dream that is tiny and fleet -
She bringeth her poppies to you, my sweet,
When she findeth you sleeping!
There is one little dream of a beautiful drum -
"Rub-a-dub!" it goeth;
There is one little dream of a big sugar-plum,
And lo! thick and fast the other dreams come
Of popguns that bang, and tin tops that hum,
And a trumpet that bloweth!
And dollies peep out of those wee little dreams
With laughter and singing;
And boats go a-floating on silvery streams,
And the stars peek-a-boo with their own misty gleams,
And up, up, and up, where the Mother Moon beams,
The fairies go winging!
Would you dream all these dreams that are tiny and fleet?
They'll come to you sleeping;
So shut the two eyes that are weary, my sweet,
For the Rock-a-By Lady from Hushaby street,
With poppies that hang from her head to her feet,
Comes stealing; comes creeping.
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